


Help

by ohnomydear



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angry Steve Rogers, BAMF T'Challa (Marvel), Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky Needs a Nap, Gen, I'm your best friend, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), everyone wants to go home, he's your best friend, post-Siberian Hydra Shelter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 18:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10792797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnomydear/pseuds/ohnomydear
Summary: “He kicked your ass,” Bucky said, to change the subject. “You gonna fly like that?”“Uh huh.”“In-“ he coughed, mid-jibe. “In that case, I’m walkin’.”





	Help

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a very brief break from typing up my other fic and I realized... had anyone written this meeting before? It musta happened.

“We’re not just leaving him there, are we? Steve?”

Silence. Theoretically, the billionaire lying back in the abandoned Siberian base could call someone for help with all that tech, but Bucky and Steve had both been in the military and knew. Help, even promised, guaranteed, gonna-come-through help, didn’t always come through in time.

“He could die, Steve.”

“If he’s gonna kill you, let ‘im.”

The Winter Soldier left that one alone then. If Tony had pushed Steve past his ‘save everyone’ mentality, there would be no arguing it. Pray for help, Stark, you’ll find no quarter here.

“He kicked your ass,” he said, to change the subject. “You gonna fly like that?”

“Uh huh.”

“In-“ he coughed, mid-jibe. “In that case, I’m walkin’.”

The air had seeped into the empty arm socket, which should have been cauterized by Stark’s blast. "Should have," but the arm had been more shredded than cleaved off. Bucky still tried to avoid thinking about those implications. With every breath, he felt the cold getting in. He hadn’t known how his own body fit together in a long time, but he knew it was an open system right now.

Steve yanked his arm a little more firmly over his shoulder and they trudged towards the plane. Like two hobbits on their way to Mt. Doom, Bucky thought hazily. And there was Sauron.

Oh.

Oh CRAP.

A choked noise escaped from the back of his throat. He yanked away from Steve, who made his own surprised grunt of inquiry. They had both been so focused on walking, they hadn’t seen what they were walking TOWARDS.

Bucky didn’t get far, running. He hadn't expected to, but he'd expected to get farther than nine feet. Apparently the absence of 15lbs of metal on his left side changed his center of gravity. And, he realized as he was falling, his ability to catch himself. Fine, he thought as he hit the ground, so long as he got far enough that Steve couldn’t fight this guy too—

“I won’t hurt you, Mr. Barnes!” T’challa called over the wind. The king didn’t move from where he stood between them and the plane. “I have Zemo,” he continued, having secured their attention. “But you appear to have lost Tony Stark.”

Zemo was off the table. That made one less person to worry about shooting them in the heads and Bucky had been worrying.

“Stark will be fine, highness,” Steve said, voice ridged with anger. “If you’ll move, we’ll be on our way.”

“He’s injured. In there,” Bucky said, roughly pushing himself up with one arm. “He should be able to call for help but – we don’t even know if there’s a signal out here.” The explanation ended there, as he broke into a fit of coughing. T’challa watched impassively.

“How is the arm networked into your chest?” he asked. Bucky shook his head; he didn’t know.

“Jus’ check on Stark,” he said quietly, unsure if T’challa could hear him and praying that the man didn’t ask why he cared. Answering ‘because I killed his parents’ wouldn’t do them any favors.

“Are you going to stop us from leaving?” Steve interrupted. “We have this handled.”

“Clearly you do not and I mean neither you or him no harm at this time. Excuse me.” That said, the king turned and climbed into their plane, much to the surprise of both veterans.

“Highness, we would LIKE TO LEAVE.” Steve’s voice carried out into the snow-driven clearing. That voice could rally just about anybody, or shout them down, but not this tall African man in a panther suit. T’challa replied too quietly to be heard. Steve came out, suddenly quiet, and helped Bucky up.

“He says we can go to Wakanda,” Steve told him. His tone suggested he thought this was a good thing. It wasn't.

“No…” Damn it, all he had wanted the guy to do was check on Stark. “Just drop me off in Bucharest again. Or Singapore. Anywhere. I can’t – I’m not following you around right now. I can’t—“

“-that’s fine--”

“Hurt anyone else," Bucky finished. Steve hesitated, realizing he'd interrupted, and Bucky took advantage of the pause. "With whatever Hydra did. It’s what I am to anyone with that book, Steve. A Hydra agent.”

Steve started moving towards the plane; Bucky didn’t have much of a choice but to stumble along after him. 

“Wakanda is the most technologically advanced nation on the planet," Steve said, steamrolling onwards with this plan. "He says you’ll be safe there – no heroics, no missions.”

“And Zemo?” 

“He’ll drop Zemo off personally with a friend of his. Everett Ross.” 

“THAT guy.” Bucky coughed. “Figures they’d be friends.” 

He glanced back against at the Hydra shelter, expecting Stark to come striding out at any moment, ready to simply shoot them down like lame rabbits. Yet the man didn’t come out. And that kept worrying him because, eventually, it was going to worry Steve.

“He’s one of your best friends,” he said, gripping Steve’s shoulder to bear some of his own weight. “You always could pick ‘em.”

“T’challa made sure someone’s coming in the next thirty, if he doesn’t make it out himself.” Steve sighed, though with relief or irritation, Bucky couldn’t tell. “Help is on the way.”


End file.
